Hermione's Odyssey
by thequeenofmalcontent
Summary: Hermione is sent back in time by Dumbledore to try and end the war before it starts. But nothing goes to Dumbledore's plan, and the ramifications are more significant than anything anyone could've expected. She left as Hermione Granger, but who does she return as? (Hermione x Tom Riddle) All characters and references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. RECENTLY UPDATED!


**Hello everyone! I just recently revised and updated this story a bit! It is a one-shot, but I may consider expanding the story in the future if the inspiration strikes. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing (and rewriting) it. Dark and cunning Hermione is something I want to get right, without completely changing who she is as a person. This is my feeble attempt at that, so thanks again for reading and I'd love for you to leave a comment with your thoughts!**

"Miss Granger, there is no way around this. You must do it. The battle is all but lost, you are our _last_ hope." Dumbledore told her, as he lounged in his portrait upon the wall in the headmaster's office.

"But why me?" She nearly wailed in return; there were no two ways about it; Hermione Granger was terrified.

"Because you're the only one who knows how to use the time-turner, the only one we can trust to do this, the only one _I_ trust to do this." He told her with an empathetic look on his face.

He knew that this time he might be asking too much, but he had no other option. Harry and the Order were losing, the Death Eaters were advancing on the castle, and it was only a matter of time before Voldemort would win.

Thoughts raced through her head, emotions as high as they had ever been. She was humbled, terrified, and a little electrified by it all. No one in the history of the wizarding world had done what she was about to do; well, no one had done it and _lived_ to tell about it. She might die, but that wasn't the worst part of it because she'd have to face _him_ once she got there, _if_ she got there.

She appeared suddenly, where she had been only moments ago, and though Dumbledore knew this was likely to happen, it still surprised him. He'd been waiting for her to appear for nearly 45 years, and he was filled with bitter disappointment when he saw her. S_he_ had failed them all. She'd been instructed to deliver a letter to his past self to explain the war they were facing, and he remembered every detail. Barely anything had changed, save a few trivial details that were as insignificant as grains of sand in a desert.

"What've you done?" She spat at him in hatred that would've sent a shiver to his bones if he were more than a portrait. The look in her eyes made him question his actions for a fleeting moment before she ran out the door as if her world depended on it.

She ran like she was on fire and tried to ignore the dead who laid in the hallways, lifeless eyes watching her with accusing stares as she ran to him. She knew now that no matter what she did, it would _eternally_ be him, and seeing what he'd done made her sick to her stomach, but she would _always_ love him. She knew that what he'd done and what he was planning to do was crueler than she could comprehend, but at least this time, she knew _why_. And that changed everything.

As she approached the entrance hall of the castle, she pushed herself even harder, ignoring her torn and bloody dress and her feet aching in her pumps. Her perfectly coiffed hair, he'd done it himself this morning before giving her his customary good morning kiss, was starting to tumble around her face. She knew she looked like she'd just jumped out of the 1940s and in a way she had. She was ripped from her timeline and sent back, and then just as she finally began to make progress, just as they were falling in _love_, Dumbledore had ripped her from her new life and sent her back to this all-together new but familiar place. Her life would never be the same, and she knew that now. Nothing would ever be the same because he was in her life now. Now that she knew what it's like to love, to love him and be loved by him, which was altogether different than any love she'd ever felt. It was more electrifying than magic itself, and she knew that their souls were drawn together, and no amount of time could separate them. She only hoped that he would allow her to explain herself to him, but she knew better than anyone that his rage knew no bounds, and time had most likely lessened the intense effect that she'd had on him. And whatever time had left intact was most likely deformed by the Horcruxes and his blind rampage for power and how she'd _left _him.

She stopped dead in her tracks once she was at the door. The view outside was stomach-churning. They were all there; people she went to school with since she was 12 years old, the Weasley's who were her second family, Harry, and Ron, and everyone she had ever loved, all where she had left them months ago, minutes ago, all where they were _supposed _to be.

Suddenly an almost mundane thought struck her mind; what would the Weasley's think about her after what she had done? Would Molly Weasley still look at her like she was the daughter she never had, or would she look at her with hate and shame? Most likely hatred and shame, no one but he could love her after what she had done, not Molly Weasley, not Ron, and definitely not Harry. Harry would never speak to her again, and though she loves him like a brother, though she was raised with him, and though she had fought and hidden with him, he wasn't the man she loved.

She would **die** for Harry Potter, but she would _kill_ for Tom Riddle.

And that difference changed everything. When she had realized this, when she told Tom this, she saw a genuine smile on his face. Not one of those sly smiles that didn't reach his eyes, and that left a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. He smiled because he knew this was something she wasn't comfortable with, and yet she had acknowledged it and told him. He knew she loved him then, that convinced him more than anything else that had happened, and a lot had happened, and he knew it despite her hesitations. And he knew that she was his and he would never let anyone take that, but that was before everything had changed.

"Tom." She breathed as she caught sight of him in his black robes. But he looked different than she had remembered. There were no red eyes, or snake-like nose, no face of a monstrosity. He looked like a man, and yes, he was terrifying, but he was still a man. His black eyes a cold expanse, his skin almost deathly pale, and an apathetic look upon his face.

She saw Harry standing off with Tom and knew that she couldn't wait any longer. She wouldn't allow herself to think about whether she moved forward, towards Tom, because of her own selfish need to feel him, or because she wanted to protect those who had loved her for almost all of her life.

She pushed passed George and Molly Weasley, and they looked at her with confusion tugging on their brows.

She pushed past Arthur and Ron. Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her to him hard, trying to prevent her from going any further.

"Let me go!" She snarled at him, and he seemed taken aback at first but only tightened his grip on her arm. Looking on in confusion at how she'd changed entirely in the few moments he'd lost sight of her.

She could hear Tom and Harry talking, but because Ron gripped her arm, she had her back to them. Anger welling up in her, her magic was wound like a tight coil, and she aimed her wand at Ron's neck. The look of shock and betrayal on his face almost sent a stab of guilt through her heart, but only nearly.

"Well, well, well, what is this? Division in your ranks Potter?" Tom spat, and Hermione felt her pulse speed up, even after everything she knew, despite everything she knew, he stirred her like this.

Harry turned to look at her and Ron; anger and anxiety were written all over his face. Ron, now under the scrutiny of The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, slackened his grip on her wrist, and she yanked it free. She turned to give Harry an almost regretful smile before she slithered past him.

"Coming to face me, girl?" Tom taunted, looking back at his Death Eaters with a barking laugh though she knew it wasn't his real laugh. She missed the deep and rich one that he only shared with her when he was genuinely amused by her intelligence and brutality.

"I haven't been fearful of you for some time now, Tom." She told him with a small smirk.

At the sound of her voice, he stilled, so still, it looked as if the wind would blow him to ashes. He turned slowly to her, his face stoic, but she could see the shock in his eyes. She was still in what she had been wearing the day that she had left, and it sent him reeling.

"You dare! Filthy little mud-blood, I will butcher you!" Bellatrix exploded from behind Tom, moving to come into Hermione's view.

Without taking his eyes off of Hermione, he waved his hand mindlessly, and Bellatrix was silenced and put in a full-body bind. Hermione heard everyone gasp at this, but no one made any moves. They were all captivated by this utterly complex interaction between Hermione and Tom.

"Kitten." He breathed, finally breaking his silence though his body was still as taut as a bowstring.

"Tom, I didn't want to leave, you need to know that, Dumbledore made me, h-he forced me back. I pled to stay, but he wouldn't let me, told me that I'd ruined it all and that he couldn't trust me. I never wanted to leave you, I only ever wanted to stay Tom." Hermione said, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled over her words in the effort to get them out as fast as possible. Grasping for any way to get him to understand, any way to feel him again.

"Oh, Kitten." He purred again, a look of sorrow upon his face as he regarded her almost tenderly.

"Why?" She croaked, motioning to the destruction around them. She thought she'd done enough, showed him enough, _loved_ him enough.

"For you, Kitten, it was always for you." He said softly, though there was a glint in his eyes. "He took you from me, and I wanted to show him the damage I could do when you take from me what I love." He spat the last words at the ground as if Dumbledore could hear him from where he was rotting beneath the earth.

"Oh, Tom." Hermione all but cried as she understood; he loved her, and he hadn't been lying when he said that he'd tear the world apart for her.

"Hermione." He replied, his eyes shining with what could only be love, and despite who he was, it did not look alien upon his face.

She walked towards him and was encouraged by the look of hunger in his eyes. She felt that hunger too, a yearning to touch him and feel him around her, to smell him, to feel his lips on hers. Despite the amount of time that had passed, he was still one of the most handsome men that she'd ever seen.

She wrapped her arms tentatively around his waist, burrowing her head into his chest. His arms quickly and powerfully pulled her to him and crushed her body to his. There was no uncertainty in his actions; he'd waited too long for that.

His head bowed, and he encased her. His arms and cloak wrapped protectively around her, his head resting on the crook of her neck, and she felt that familiar feeling of safety and warmth and power that only he could evoke from her. He whispered promises and muttered thoughts into her ear, and she just reveled in the sound of his voice. The feeling of warmth radiating from him and into her, filling her soul to the brim.

She tilted her head and looked up at him. There was a look of peace on his face, and at this moment, she knew that her journey wasn't over yet. She knew that she still had so much to do. Because they could never live in this world, they could never be together. It had never been their plan for the war to happen as it had, it was meant to be more calculated. They were going to rule it to be sure, but not through fear. They were going to convince everyone they _wanted_ to be subjugated by them, everyone was going to cheer for them. Here, in this future, everyone would think she was imperiused or brainwashed, that the love wasn't real and that he'd forced her, that they only had the capabilities for violence and hatred. That was not how Hermione was going to rule this future. She wanted her cake and to eat it too, she wanted Tom and her friends, and she was going to get it.

She would _kill_ for Tom Riddle.

And the sinking feeling in her stomach told her one thing.

She was going to have too.

"Don't touch her!" Harry roared at Tom. And Hermione's mind began racing on thoughts of how to buy them time to figure out a way to create the world they'd planned in the Slytherin common-room back in 1944.

She untucked her head from against Tom's chest and began to whisper to him slowly, looking into his eyes very carefully. They needed to get this right, and they needed to work together.

"Listen to me, my love. This world, as it cannot work, not with us together. But right now, we have the upper hand. Let us leave here so we can plan. More bloodshed is irrelavent, to craft our future we must go to the past." Hermione finished.

His deep chocolate brown eyes gazed at her, some might say it looked like he was frozen in place, but she knew exactly what he was doing. He was calculating, he was weighing all the options they'd discussed years ago, figuring out how best to create their world.

She could see him pushing and pulling and arranging all the pieces in his head. Creating a map and a timeline and then destroying it and starting over. With time as a changeable dimension, it created so many more opportunities for them, more dangerous but more appealing. They could have everything if they did it right.

Then all at once, like a flip being switched, the air at Hogwarts changed. He'd made his decision, we were retreating for now. The tension was only feeble now, the Order of the Phoenix drained to a point they no longer posed a threat for now, but still alive and very much bitter in their pitiful way.

"Hermione! Look at me!" Harry cried, and Hermione realized she could no longer ignore the people who were burning holes into her with their stares.

She turned away from Tom, but not before stopping for a quick glance to tell him she needed this moment. But he stood resolutely behind her a silent guardian against what was once her family.

"Harry," Hermione said with a sad smile, pulled taut upon her lips.

"Come here, Hermione, we can lift whatever spell or curse he has you under. I promise. Just come here please, just _get away_ from him." Harry begged her, nearly on his knees, reaching out to her.

"I'm not under a spell, Harry. He didn't give me any potions or curse me." She began knowing the bombshells she was about to drop would end their friendship forever, at least in this timeline.

"Then why, Hermione. What is going on?" Harry asked, almost breathless in his confusion. He felt like the world was slipping out from under him. His most trusted friend and ally, walked past him like it was any other day at Hogwarts and straight into the arms of Voldemort.

"We're soul bonded," Hermione stated simply, a gasp from Molly Weasley quickly took attention away from her.

"Soul bonded? Mrs. Weasley, what does that mean?" Harry asked, astutely guessing her gasp meant something calamitous.

"A soul bond is an unbreakable bond between souls. They are bound for eternity regardless of time, any unfaithfulness or betrayal is considered a breaking of the vow. Your body rots from the inside if the vow is broken." Molly Weasley explained with shaky speech.

"Darling, tell me you didn't?" Arthur Weasley asked her with tears in his eyes.

"Yes, Harry, we are soul bonded. Any wavering from our partnership ends in death. A vow I made readily knowing I would never break it. There is so much you'll never understand, and I cannot take the time to explain it to you. I'm sorry, Harry. You will all be spared for now, but please don't cause trouble. It'll be all settled shortly." Hermione said, a conviction in her voice that none of her friends had ever heard from her before.

She was iron now. She was confident in her power as a witch. Everyone could see it, she wasn't a gangly bucktoothed know-it-all anymore. She'd realized her power, and now she was a force of nature, one that they weren't sure whether to love or to fear. But considering the man at whose shoulder he stood, it wasn't hard to fear her. Hermione had never been a dark witch, but intelligence is never black and white. She had roots of it more profound than her classmates could understand.

"Please, Harry, we are going to leave, I can't promise you won't be hurt if you don't hide. But I promise that you'll awaken to a bright new world. Our bright new world." Hermione said a cunning smile on her face, it reminded those in front of her of Voldemort in a way that made them shiver.

Where had their Hermione gone?


End file.
